Kill the Director
by Captain Awesomesauce
Summary: When Basch moved to HetaHigh, he thought he'd left his past behind him. Unfortunately, he finds himself sat next to the person he hoped to never see again. Join everyone's favourite trigger-happy hermit on his quest to get 'that stupid Austria' out of his head and make friends. Pfft, as if! "If this is a rom-com, kill the director!"- The Wombats (Kill The Director)
1. Chapter 1- And So It Begins

**AN: Salutations hominids! This is my first time writing Hetalia fanfic and I am incredibly excited. The pairing is quite obviously Ausswiss, but it will have some other pairings and some Swissliech sibling fluff. Please review and tell me what I've screwed up (or done awesome if that even applies).**

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"Oh, and Basch?"

"Yes?"

"Do try and make some friends at HetaHigh, I worry about you."

"I don't want friends."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"I suppose it is."

Lili watched from the doorway and frowned slightly. Making friends had been hard for her big brother after what had happened, but he was over it. Almost. Even now, the sight of the Austrian flag made him spit, and he would squirm at the sound of Chopin. If you praised Beethoven to his face he would swear, and as for coffee… No, big brother never forgot, and he never forgave, which was sad, really.

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**A few minutes later. Switzy POV **

"Big bruder?" I turned around to see little Lili by my door. Her face was scrunched up with what looked like concern and her hand holding a mug of something hot. "Yes?"

"A-are you all right? Because mama didn't look very happy with you, a-and I-"

"I'm fine, Lili, really." I stated.

"Okay, then. It's just- you looked sad, so I got you your favourite tea."

"You didn't have to do that, but thanks."

"But you're happy now?"

"Yes."

"And you like the tea?"

"Yes."

"So I did have to do it, bruder." She said, setting the mug down and walking back to the door.

"Good night." I said. She said the same back, before turning and walking to her own room.

The tea was lovely, and as I sipped, my mind grew calm. It didn't matter that I wouldn't know anybody at this school, or even that I made friends with any of them. Watching out for Lili was responsibility enough, it would be worse to have to bail out stupid friends as well. Very, very stupid friends who got beaten up and played the piano and- 'Shut up!' I cried to no one in particular, trying to drone out the voice in my head.

Failing, I sank back into my chair and sighed. At least when I was friends with Roderich, mum saw no problem with my troglodyte tendencies. We were two outcasts against the world, our strangeness keeping us together until the day we broke apart, this due to us realising we couldn't manage it any more. But what surprised me was that though he was a weak, pathetic little creature, he learned to get by without me.

Though to tell the truth, the only thing he was ever openly affectionate toward was his piano, so when we parted, there was no emotional void for him to fill. This wounded me, but I didn't show it. I was never comfortable with showing emotion myself, and I didn't need strangers' sympathy. I needed a friend. So when he moved to some far off place without even saying goodbye, I was fine. Really. My sister was excellent, yes, but she was too shy to hold a conversation with and practically terrified of me, though knowing myself, I didn't blame her.

And so it was decided that I, Basch Zwingli, self proclaimed hermit, cynic and gun enthusiast, would make a new friend by the end of this week. After all, in a new town and a new school, I had a head start. I would then proceed to bring said friend home and parade them loudly and proudly in front of my mother and sister.

Who cared if I kept them beyond the week? And taking back what I said earlier, who needs friends? Not me. Friends are for idiots, stupid, music-obsessed idiots! Friends are for stupid, music-obsessed idiots who wear glasses for the sake of fashion and play piano and- 'Why can't I get him out of my head?!'

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**AN: Well? Did you like it? Did you feel an urge to hit something that may or may not be the author of this story? Whichever applies to you, please leave a review in the box below and support my work. *begins to cry* Without reviews, my life is meaningless! So please, continue to give my life meaning and leave a review, dammit!**


	2. Chapter 2- School Daze

**Hey guys, I know this chapter is a little soon, but I was bursting with ideas! This probably won't be updated daily, but expect weekly updates at the very least. FYI ****Amerigo Vargas is the Roman Empire****. His first name is Amerigo because it is of Italian origin and apparently means 'home ruler'. Appropriate, huh? I'm introducing several new characters, and I hope they don't sound OOC. **

**Warning: this chapter contains some swearing.**

**Yet again, please R&R:)**

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_Beep Beep_

_Beep Beep_

_Beep Beep_

_Beep Beep_

_Bee-_ "Shut up you stupid alarm clock!"

I was at last rewarded in my search for the off button, and as further reward, I went back to sleep.

"Basch Zwingli! If you are not up and awake right now, I swear-" Holy fuck. Mother knew. I literally jumped out of bed, turned on the light and sprinted to my closet, grabbing a green tee and black trousers. I didn't care about dressing to impress; I just cared about not sticking out.

When I was finally ready, my bed neatly made and my backpack well packed, I went downstairs to eat some breakfast. Mum and Lili were already there and I mumbled 'good morning' to them both as I poured the cereal into my bowl.

"Do you like my dress, big bruder?" A little voice asked, and I thought about the least offensive way to phrase my answer. "Yes, it's nice." It was nice, that is, if one was attending a neo-Victorian convention, think burgundy, long-sleeved, knee-length and knife-pleated. She could get teased because of it. But hey, at least my half-compliment cheered her up. "You really think so?"

"Yes."

"Come on Lili, Basch, it's nearly time to leave. Do you remember the route?"

"Yes."

"Perfectly?"

"Yes."

"Good. I wouldn't want my children late on their first day of school, especially since this is Lili's first day at senior school." We both nodded at this.

"And both of you, please try and make some friends, especially you, Basch. Promise me?"

"I promise." Lili and I replied, Lili politely, myself not so much. While I had no friends due to my violence and paranoia, Lili was just deathly shy. Even so, her overwhelming cuteness made her well liked, more than what could be said for me.

When breakfast was finished, we washed our plates, grabbed our bags and stepped out the door. My little sister was practically buzzing with excitement as she skipped along the street in her fancy red dress, gripping my hand tightly all the way. It was only a five-minute walk, and the sight at the end of it made up for any exertion on our part.

HetaHigh looked like a collection of large red brick houses from a distance, but closer up you could see that they were all gated off from the rest of the street.

Behind the metal gates rose a large sign bearing the words 'HetaHigh- A coeducational private day school for ages 11-18. Headmaster: Dr Amerigo Vargas'. I could now see why mum was so pleased when we got places.

Looking to the side of me, I saw Lili staring intently at the school, mouth partly open and jaw dropped. "Quit gawking, Lili." I said. "We haven't got all day." She blushed at this and pressed the button at the crossing.

"Bruder." She said. "The school looks so big and scary. W-what if I get lost and never come out again?"

"You won't, Lili. And if you do, I'll be there to help you."

"But what if you get lost?"

"I'll find my way around."

At that, the sign flashed and we crossed the street, her fingernails digging into my hand. There were signs pointing to the reception, and the kind woman at the desk told us the way to our form rooms. Lili's was only down the hall, but mine was several buildings away. So after telling her to stay safe and find me if she needed help, I went to my own form room.

The walk to my building was almost as long as my own walk to school, and as per the woman's instructions, I went up two flights of stairs and went to the first classroom on the right. According to the rulebook, we weren't allowed in until 8:30, but that didn't deter my new classmates.

Both the hallway and my classroom were packed with students, talking, laughing, roughhousing and writing inappropriate things on the whiteboard. It was simply deafening.

Seeing less people in the hallway, I leaned against the wall and sighed. It was bad enough that the school was so loud, but that practically everyone in it was an obnoxious idiot? That sucked.

I was about to take a book out of my bag, when a voice stopped me. "So sorry for asking, but are you the new student?" I turned around to see a nervous looking brunet. "I am. Who are you?"

"I'm Toris Laurinaitis, n-nice to meet you."

"I'm Basch Zwingli." Toris laughed nervously at this and gulped.

"So you just moved here?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I just did."

"Er, do you like it?"

"Well, the scenery can't compare to the countryside, but it's nice how everything's so easy to get to."

"That's good, then."

Now I would never describe myself as extroverted in a million years, but Toris's nervousness was putting me off further. Thankfully, there was a distraction at hand. "Toris! Toris! OMG! I was waiting for you for, like, ever!" A young blond rushed past me and straight up to Toris. "Where w-" He looked at me, and his expression changed to one of suspicion. "Who are you?" He said, crossing his arms.

"I'm Basch Zwingli."

"So you're, like, the new boy, am I right?"

"Yes. Why does everyone know I was coming?"

"Well, the last kid who joined our class was that weird Roddy, and there was, like, this rumour that there would be another newbie this year."

"And here I am."

"Well that's pretty obvious. Now, how'd you know Toris?"

"I don't. We just met."

"And you know who I am?"

"His friend?"

"Well duh! I mean my name."

"No."

"Well, I'm Feliks Łukasiewicz. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

But my mind was too busy to notice what he next said, because I was thinking about what he meant by 'that weird Roddy'. Soon after our fight, my friend had moved away, which could mean that-

"Basch? You okay? Did I offend you? Cause that does, like, happen sometimes." This snapped me out of my reverie, and I tried to form a response. "No. No. It's just that…'that weird Roddy'. What's his full name?"

"Roderich Edelstein. Why?"

"Shit."

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**Was it all right? Please review, as it really does influence my writing, as well as also being nice to see statistics wise:p**


	3. Chapter 3- Fate, Friends, and Glock Guns

**It's occurred to me that I may have been too hasty with this update, but I would so like this story to move forward, as it seems to be progressing sluggishly. Just some warning: someone Basch isn't pleased to see shows up, so prepare for a mental rant. As always, read and review!**

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Before Toris and Feliks could question me further, the bell rang. "That's the line-up bell." Toris said, moving closer to the door and turning to face down the hallway. Feliks and I snatched the spots behind him, while the rest of the class spewed out of the form room like bats out of hell. "She's here!" One squeaked, before taking his place in the queue.

Curious as to who 'she' was, I looked out to see a young woman with a binder in hand walking down the hallway. "That's Miss Héderváry." Toris whispered. "She's our form tutor." Though taking another glance at her, I saw no need to whisper.

Her youth, sweet expression and cutesy clothing easily betrayed the fact that she was a new teacher, and an especially spineless one at that. That is, until she opened her mouth.

"Shut up, you lot!" She roared. "You'd think that after a year of teaching you, you would understand that when I say no talking in the queue, that includes whispering. Now, I expect you to enter the classroom in complete silence, do I make myself clear?" I hardly knew her, but the woman already had my respect.

When we were all inside, she smiled kindly and said to "Please sit down in your places from last term. If you have any questions, ask and I will be more than happy to help." But given that I had no place from last year, I walked up to her desk and cleared my throat. "Miss Héderváry?"

"Yes?"

"I wasn't here last term, so I can't go to my place."

"I'm pretty aware you're new, sweetie. Please sit in that seat right there." She said, motioning to a seat in the middle row on the far right. I nodded and walked to it.

The spot next to me was empty, and the chair beyond contained a pale boy with red eyes, casually draped over his chair like he owned it. Suffice to say, my douchebag senses were tingling. Happily, though, he didn't notice me, and instead continued to talk loudly to his obnoxious band of goons.

When we were all settled, the teacher walked in front of the board and waited for everyone to stop talking. Thankfully, they had learnt their lesson, that is, not to mess with Miss Héderváry, and soon shut up. "Good morning, class!" She said.

"Good morning, Miss Héderváry." We parroted.

"Did you all enjoy your break?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Now, as some of you may have noticed, there is a new student in our class today. Basch, please stand at the front so we can all see you."

And for lack of a better description, I did.

"Basch just moved here from Oxfordshire, and I hope you'll all make him feel welcome. Now, since Basch is new, he'll-"

She abruptly stopped speaking when the door swung open to reveal a bespectacled boy. Though even by looking at his coat, I knew who it was. "You're late, Roderich." She snapped. And making a cowardly face, he went to sit down, only to be stopped by Miss Héderváry. "Not so fast, there! I was about to ask someone to volunteer to be Basch's helper, but since you were consistently late last year and late today, you get the job. It is your responsibility to help him settle in." She then allowed us to sit down.

As I slowly walked back to my seat, I realised that Roderich was on my heels, only noticing too late that he was the occupant of 'the empty chair'. Well, if I thought life sucked before… "...Basch?" Roderich had said something.

"Pardon?"

"I asked if you were the Basch I knew as a child, but now I know for sure."

I nodded gruffly and allowed myself a glance at his face. It had barely changed in the past few years. The cheeks were slightly thinner, yes, and the entire face was almost more… masculine. He certainly had… improved?

Now, don't get the wrong idea, here. He was still a girly little coward, but he wasn't the round-cheeked boy I saw in my memories. But those eyes hadn't changed one bit. They were still that vivid violet they always had been. So rare, so gem-like, so b-

That was the last straw. It wasn't right of Miss Héderváry to effectively force me to be around my archenemy, especially so very near. It was like she was asking me to beat him senseless. Or perhaps strangle him to death. Or better yet, shoot him in the head with my father's semiautomatic Glock pistol. Yes, that sounded nice.

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After my 3-minute glare, I snapped into focus and began labeling my school notebooks as they were passed out, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to sneer at Roderich's effeminate handwriting. I always nagged him for his interest in it as a child, but it was certainly nice to look at.

My handwriting was square, perfectly straight and without flourishes or serifs. It was quite ugly, yes, but it was perfectly readable and could always be counted upon. Perhaps my handwriting was a reflection of myself. If so, then Roderich's was the Looking-Glass-Land counterpart.

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**Review? Pwetty pwease with sugar and rainbows and ponies and unicorns and **_guns_** (Basch, remember the discussion we had earlier about trying to write ****my**** story?) on top?**


	4. Chapter 4- Lunch at Long Last

**Hi again, everybody:) I apologise in advance for the short chapter, but my week has been incredibly busy, and I barely have enough time for homework this weekend. But I still hope you enjoy this anyhow. R&R! (please?)**

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_'3. 2. 1-and-a-half… 1-and-a-quarter… 1-and-an-eighth… 1-and-'_

_brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ring!_

"Pack the rest of your books, and remember, lessons start this afternoon!" Miss Héderváry cried, shooing the stampeding herd of beasts (children?) out of the classroom. Pfft. As if they needed shooing!

The rest of that morning was hardly eventful. It was a blur of book sorting, the occasionally lecture, and me trying my hardest not to think about the idiot next to me, which, though it would probably amuse most people, I found incredibly frustrating.

So I eventually settled on listing ways to kill him, which some people would consider thinking about him, but what I considered the only way to stop grabbing my emergency knife and doing the deed then and there. And how much willpower that involved…

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And so I find myself in the present, where Toris, Feliks and I were walking to lunch. We made an odd trio, but their (read 'Feliks's') inane chatter calmed my nerves and got me out of my head. It was like putting the television on just before bed: I never bothered listening to the content, but the noise was relaxing.

"Basch? Basch? Hello-o?"

"Huh?"

"I just asked if you could guess where I got my skirt, but you weren't, like, listening."

"You're right about that." I muttered, causing him to stick his hands on his hips and pout girlishly.

"Well, I was going to tell you that I got it from Hollister, but now- "

"You just did tell him, Feliks." Toris said cautiously.

"No I- oops. I'm such a blond!" And though I was as well, I couldn't help but agree with him.

For lunch I had some greyish soup that looked suspiciously like water mixed with road scrapings plus a glass of chlorine-scented water, this completed by a plastic cup filled with whipped cream and biscuit base that was supposedly cheesecake. "It's not quite gourmet, but it hasn't killed anyone." Toris said, poking his 'lasagna' with a fork. "Yet." Feliks added, trying to cut open his bread roll.

The soup didn't taste as bad as it looked, but it was still horribly bland. So I grabbed some of the free (well they had better be) salt and pepper packets they had by the bread and seasoned my slush with them. "Not too bad." Was my final verdict.

Though Feliks was still pushing his food around and wondering aloud if he should go on that celebrity diet, which made Toris twitch nervously and look away, muttering something that sounded like 'He's fine. Perfectly normal.' Poor deluded Toris, because I had come to the conclusion that Feliks was anything but.

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**How was it? Please don't make me guess! Instead, please write a little review in the review box, because he's feeling awfully lonely.**


	5. Chapter 5- An Enemy in Need is- Funny

**Hi there, everybody awesome enough to be reading this(you don't count, Prussia)! It's taken me longer than usual to update, but I hope the length of this makes up for it:) Again, this is probably moving a bit sluggishly, but if your patient, good things will come! Now please read and review.**

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After lunch came my first lesson at my new school. Was I excited? Perhaps a tiny bit. It was maths after all, and I enjoyed maths, particularly practical maths and percentages. Though it turned out that my 'friends' (I wasn't quite that comfortable with them yet) and I had been sorted into different sets.

So we parted ways at the end of lunch and I made my way to my maths classroom. I waited outside the room for a few minutes before the teacher finally called us in, where we were told to sit in our places from last year. And so, I again found myself at the teacher's desk, experiencing a mild case of déjà vu.

It seems the teacher's name was Mr Von Bock, and he was a blond, bespectacled, serious-looking young man. When he was finished talking to the boy in front, he turned to me. "Yes?"

"I don't have a seat, sir." I said.

"Then please sit by Alfred. You're Basch, I presume?"

"I am."

Deciding it was a good answer enough, I went to sit by the said Alfred, a boy with dark blond hair, glasses, an obnoxious grin, and from what I could clearly hear, a mile-a-minute mouth. Great. Just fucking great. As soon as I sat down, he pounced. "Hi, I'm Alfred! Nice to meet you! What's your name? I told you mine already." So my first impression was correct.

"Basch Zwingli." At this, the boy sputtered.

"Dude, is that seriously your name?!"

"Yes." I deadpanned. "It, like, seriously is." Too much time with my Polish 'friend' had shortened my temper.

"Ouch." He said, rubbing his shoulder. "You're no fun, are you? Maybe you should go hang out with that dickhead Arthur, except he's not cool enough to be in the top maths set!" Egotistical as well, it seemed. "Well, anyone sounds preferable to you." I said.

"Even nerdy losers?"

"I'm pretty sure you are one."

"Not really. There ain't no nerds like drama club nerds."

"I see."

"And I'm pretty sure you aren't one, amirite?

"Yes, now kindly leave me alone."

"Man, you really are no fun." He grumbled, turning back to the boy next to him.

"Kiku!" He shout-whispered. "I sit next to a total douche!"

The boy looked worried at this. "My sincerest apologies, Alfred. If I had known that you didn't like-"

"No. No. No. I didn't mean you! I meant Mr Scary Camo German Guy."

Now I'm not generally one to interrupt conversations, but that was taking it too far. "I am not German!" I shouted.

"Fine!" Alfred huffed. "Austrian, whatever! Roderich Unpronounablelastname was ranting about that last year, but I wasn't paying much attention."

I could feel my face heat up, and my blood boiled in my veins. "I am not Austrian either! I am Swiss, and there IS a difference, idiot!"

"Ooh. Did I hit a nerve or something?" And hearing some laughter, I turned to see the rest of the class listening.

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After the second bell rang, lessons proper began, and I made a point to work in silence. That American idiot may have insulted my country and my pride, but he couldn't get me to talk. And besides, he later got a black mark for disrupting class, so it served him right.

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Double English wasn't worth the bother of describing at length, and aside from a few (all right, lots of) arguments with Roderich, nothing terribly interesting happened. And though Feliks was too busy trying to lick his elbow than to help, Toris and I managed through the dull group work well enough, getting a house point each (yes, even one for Feliks).

No, what was really interesting was what happened in the form room after English. After sorting all my books for the next day, I returned to the form room to pack them. But as I pushed open the door, I noticed it was stuck, and pushing harder, I heard a loud thump and a string of swear words.

I looked in to apologise. "Oh sor-" It was Roderich. "Never mind." I said, pushing past him.

"Couldn't you help me up? It hurts." I could, but did I want to? Then again, I could always yank him by the arm and injure him further. "Fine." I said, but decided against hurting him at the last moment.

Perhaps his pathetic expression made me pity him, or I was too tired to be that spiteful, but either way, I gently took both hands and lifted him by them, maintaining eye contact all the while.

At first, his eyes were round as saucers, the snobby look hardly disguising the fear in them, but he relaxed soon enough. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"I'm fine." This done, I packed my backpack in silence and walked out of the room, determined not to allow myself even one glance back.

I had helped him up after knocking him down, as far as I could tell, my duty was done. Besides, I had more important things to do. Lili had to be collected from her form room, and I didn't want to worry her by being late. She was much more important than that pansy anyway.

"Big bruder!" Lili said as soon as I walked in. "How was your day?"

I tried my hardest to smile. "Erm, good. I made some friends."

"Really? Mama will be so proud when she finds out."

"I don't want to tell her."

"Why?"

"Because I'd like to wait a couple days before I properly consider them friends, that's all."

"Oh."

"How was your day?"

"Very good. The teachers are so nice and the food is so good. I don't want to move schools again, big bruder."

"I don't think we will." And the conversation lapsed into silence

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"Big bruder?" Lili asked some minutes later, as we were nearly to the house.

"Yes?"

"Don't be mad at me, but I saw Roderich at school today." I felt my face heat up several degrees.

"And did you talk to him?"

"I did. He said his mama would be very pleased to know we live here now."

"What? Why that-"

"Big brother, I saw you fighting when I passed one of the classrooms. Please promise you won't fight in front of mama."

"Of course not, why… wait! You didn't invite him, did you?"

"I didn't invite him, bruder. He invited us."

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**After you've read this far, it's a shame not to leave a review. So go on, ladies and gents, you know you want to! And it'll only take a moment of your time...**


	6. Chapter 6- The Shirt from Hell

**Thank you all for the kind reviews:) I've never gotten as many reviews for any other chapter than the last one! And though I've forgotten to mention this before, thank you so much to all those anonymous reviewers who I haven't been able to thank by PM. Every review means so much to me, even the questionable, trollish ones (for humour purposes). And sorry for Basch's views on everything, he's an offensive, offensive person.**

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The rest of the walk home was spent in heavy silence. I glared at the ground while Lili looked directly ahead, a slight crease on her brow. The both of us were too deep in thought to ask what the other was thinking.

When we reached the house, mum answered the door with a big smile and a friendly greeting. "Basch! Lili! How was your first day?"

"Good, mummy, thanks for asking." Lili said.

"And Basch?"

"Fine. Just fine." I grumbled, making to walk up the stairs. Mother shook her head.

"Not so fast, young man! I just received a phone call from Mrs Edelstein for the first time in years, and I think you may want to discuss it." I swallowed and looked at the ground. "Come on, don't you want to ask why?" She coaxed.

"I think I already know." I said.

"And?"

"We're invited over."

"I know, dear. But are you fine with it?"

"I'm in Roderich's class. A few more hours with that stupid idiot won't make much difference."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Tell me the truth, Basch. Are you absolutely sure you can handle it? Because I know how you act around him, and Mrs Edelstein wouldn't appreciate seeing her son stabbed to death with her own silverware." I almost smiled at this; mother knew me too well.

"I need to do this, mum, and I promise you I won't stab him. I have to learn to get along with him anyway."

"Good. And no shooting him either. You may think it's in self-defence, but the police won't agree."

I nodded stiffly, and without a second's pause, turned and went upstairs, grumbling all the way. Only now was I realising the extent to which my statement was false. Spending just a minute more with him than I needed to would make a world of difference. Why did I ask to come along? Then again, why did I even help him up? Why did I ask if he was fine? Why did I care? I wanted so much not to, yet I did! It infuriated me to think I liked him, when all I wanted to do was punch him in his perfect-

ly blemish free face. Yes, his skin was fine. Nothing else was meant. N-no, really.

With all my experience at hating, you would think I'd be able to concentrate all my loathing on him, that I could bring myself to forget any good. But grumpy or not, I was human, and there was still some grain of fondness for him left in my heart, small, yes, but stubborn as hell. And with so many memories, it was hard _not_ to think of him all the time, those eyes engraved in my mind.

Wait… _what?_

The stress had messed with my brain. Yes, stress was to blame. Stupid move. Stupid school. Stupid, stupid, _stupid _Roderich. Girly, easily injured, snobby Roderich- whose house I'd just been invited to.

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"Basch? Basch! It's nearly time to go. Don't make me come up there!" Yeah, love you too, mum. Though I was puzzled as to why my alarm clock hadn't gone off. I set it for every morning, and every morning it never failed me. Actually, I had encountered some problems with it in Year Eight if I remembered correctly. Stupid vengeful alarm clock. Perhaps I was too violent with it yesterday. Ah, that was it.

"Basch!" There was no time to be lost. I slipped on the first items of clothing in my field of vision, brushed my teeth, and lugged my bag down the stairs, too tired to care that my bed was unmade and my bag not perfectly sorted through.

"There you are, big bruder!" Lili chirped. "Did you sleep well?" I nodded and downed my orange juice. Mum kissed our heads and told me good morning. "Now children," Mother stated. "I know you'd love to talk, but you have the walk to school to do that, and you're late already." We got up from the table and walked to the door. "Stay safe, all right?" I nodded, turning the door handle. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

"That's an interesting ensemble you're sporting today, Basch." The door clanged behind me.

"Mama is quite right, big bruder. You've never worn that shirt before." I looked down in horror, only to realise that my worst nightmares had become reality.

Because I had accidentally put on a shirt given to me by my grandmother, and it was never worn because the shirt in question was pink and frilly. Running a hand through my hair in nervousness, I realised just how messy it was. If only I didn't feel guilty cursing in front of Lili, because if that wasn't the case, I would have given quite the show.

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"Nice shirt, dude. I didn't know you swung that way."

"Hehehehe! Bedhead and an old lady shirt just aren't awesome, man."

"Like, really, Basch? I expected so much better from you."

"You are not feeling well today, da?"

It seemed I wasn't quite as unnoticed as I had hoped I would be. But who was I kidding? Half the class had already mocked me, and the bell hadn't even rung yet, though things didn't go too well after the bell either. Even Roderich gave me an amused glance as he sat down late. "I assume you received my mother's message?"

"Yes."

"And you are coming as well?"

"I am." He looked slightly self-satisfied at this, and before I could stop myself, the words stumbled out of my mouth. "B-but just to let you know, I'm not doing it because I want to spend extra time with you. Hardly! W-why would- I'm doing it to prove a point to my parents and to keep my little sister company. So don't get the wrong idea, idiot."

Tired. Hungry. Angry. Confused. That's what I was, and what made me say it. His lips twitched in the suppressed beginnings of a smile. "I see. What sort of point are you trying to prove?"

I froze. Idiot. Annoyingly smart idiot. "I-I… that I… erm… screw it! I'm trying to prove to them that I don't- that I can… get along with you again."

He smirked. "Good luck trying."

"Girly twat." I spat.

"At least I'm not dressed like one." That did it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

In a moment I was at his throat, my fist gripping his starched collar. I could see the panic in his eye, feel the frightened pulse. His chair tipped slightly. He was caught off guard, and I almost smiled to see it. "At least I can fight my own battles, pansy."

"Well I don't get easily flus-"

"Boys!" Miss Héderváry shouted from the doorway. She was finally back from the staff room, and looking angrier than ever. "I left here a few minutes ago expecting to return to a quiet classroom, but instead find a fight and the rest of the class watching? I thought you better than that, especially you, Basch and Roderich. When the lessons bell rings, I expect you both to stay behind."

She then returned to her normal self , took the register and led us to assembly. As the first assembly of term, the whole school would be attending the headmaster's assembly. My year group was old enough to attend regardless, but it meant that Lili would be having assembly in the Main Hall rather than Junior Assembly in the gym.

On the way down the corridor, I walked beside the rest of the trio, attempting to shut Feliks up so that we wouldn't get caught by the apparently strict Mr Beilschmidt. Unfortunately, a girl wearing an 'I Luv Ponies' shirt walked past. "Hey Toris! Wouldn't that shirt look nice on me?" Feliks shout-whispered. Toris blushed and looked away nervously, muttering something under his breath.

"W-well, I suppose it would, but, Feliks-"

"Silence!" A German-sounding man barked, giving us a threatening look and walking ahead. As soon as he was out of hearing distance, Toris turned to me.

"That was Mr Beilschmidt."

"Really? I couldn't tell at all." I snarked. They both chuckled weakly at this.

"And don't, like, tell anyone I told you," Feliks said, sounding quieter than I thought possible. "But I think he fancies Mr Feliciano." I gave him a puzzled look, _Mr_ Feliciano?

"Our art teacher." Toris clarified, as if it was perfectly _normal_. "You'll see him on the timetable as Mr F Vargas, but because his brother also teaches here, he lets us call him Mr Feliciano. Then again, he'd probably let us call him that anyway."

"So I assume he's a pushover?" I asked.

"Yes. He forgets to set us homework half the time, and when he does, he rarely marks it."

"Are you sure he's Mr Beilschmidt's type, then?"

"Completely. I was sceptical at first like you, but Feliks eventually convinced me."

"With, like, my awesome Polish spying skills, of course." Feliks interrupted.

"Of _course_." I muttered, just as we entered the hall. Aside from the sixth form and teachers, the rest of us had to sit on the floor in our form groups, and because I was standing near them, I sat with Toris and Feliks. It took a few minutes, but eventually the hall was filled and the headmaster appeared behind the podium at the front. "Good morning everyone!" He boomed.

"Good morning Headmaster Vargas." The crowd echoed.

"Are you all well rested and ready for school?"

"Yes." Came the unanimous answer, but I heard the albino in front of me shout 'No!' and snicker- despicable douchebag. The rest of the assembly was a rather boring presentation on caring for others and making it a nice school year for everyone. 'Probably copied from some website.' I mused.

In short, it was that stupid, false, 'start of term' assembly done at every school. Besides, I had not forgotten what Miss Héderváry said, and I was wondering what sort of cruel and unusual punishment she had in store for us.

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**Was it good? Well, you ought to know the drill by now... and if you don't, it's REVIEW, REVIEW & REVIEW!** _In that exact order, mind._


	7. Chapter 7- Cruel and Unusual Punishment

**Salutations, again, all you nice readers. I'm sorry I've been so long, and that this chapter is so rubbishly rubbish, but I've been going from computer-ban to computer-ban (thank you, mum and dad!), as well as having a bit of writer's block, and so have had little time to write. Read and Review... or Review, review, review, etc. if you prefer:p**

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The rest of assembly soon passed, and after begrudgingly making eye-contact with Roderich, we walked silently together to the classroom, ignoring the smug glances of my classmates. They knew what was in store for me, but disliked me enough not to pity me, I was merely their entertainment. This was why I hated people so much. People pretended to like you, to genuinely care for you, but the only reasons they stuck with you were for entertainment or obligation. Once either ran out, they left you without a backward glance. In fact, the only child my own age I ever liked was-

Speaking of people dead to me, I had a meeting to attend. Damn. What would Miss Héderváry ask? Would Roderich blame it all on me? Would I blame it all on him? I guessed our reactions would depend on the circumstances, but given my contempt for him, I wouldn't expect mercy back. It would be _wrong_ to expect it, and though I was callous and jaded, I wasn't amoral.

"Basch?" Speak of the devil.

"Yes?"

"I'd like you to know that I wish you luck."

I laughed bitterly. "You make it sound like a stupid game."

"Life does feel like that sometimes."

"That sounds like something I would say."

"I guess I learnt from you, then."

Learning. What had he ever taught me? He tried to teach me piano, once. But naturally, I grew frustrated, slammed my fist over the keys, and stormed out of the room. That was the last time I touched a piano. I had been forced to use a keyboard in music, yes, but I wouldn't touch a piano. Ever.

Roderich cleared his throat, and looking up, I realised we had arrived. Upon opening the door, I found Miss Héderváry sorting through files whistling Brahms's Hungarian Dance in- crap. So I _had_ learnt something from him, though I wouldn't tell him I remembered him telling me; that would be like stating I cared enough to remember; that was how my mind worked, remembering things it liked, and- oh shit. Yes, you heard me right, and shit, useless shit like names of famous pieces. But those eyes sparkled in recognition of the tune, and in connecting it with her nationality, a small smile played over his lips.

Noticing us, Miss Héderváry turned around and smiled sweetly, "Hello boys, do sit down." motioning to the seats now opposite her desk. Her anger had long gone, and I hoped it would stay that way for the rest of the talk, because as nice as she was, Miss Héderváry didn't mess around. "So," She said, sitting down. "I will begin with getting both viewpoints on the situation, and then relaying my verdict back to you. There is to be no arguing or repeats of this morning, do you both understand?"

I nodded, looking firmly at the wall behind her. I intended not to argue, yes, but what if something- unfortunate slipped out? I didn't want Miss Héderváry to know every single little detail, to try to understand, because I hated him, and that was all she needed to know. She didn't need to 'get viewpoints' on the situation, just deal with it in the most efficient way possible (i.e. shipping him to Timbuktu and being done with it).

Unfortunately, teachers couldn't just drop everything for the sake of efficiency, and had to consider 'feelings'. Feelings schmeelings, I'd rather have shot myself than apologised for something obviously deserved. After all, it wasn't my fault I was sat next to the world's prissiest boy (and two seats over from the winner of the Douchebag World Cup). In situations such as these, not fighting would be the girly thing to do- the Roderich thing to do- and no matter what people said, I didn't look girly, and I wasn't at all like Roderich.

* * *

"Thank you for your time, Basch. Would you please call Roderich in? I'll just be a few minutes, then you'll be spoken to again and finally free to go." Miss Héderváry said. So after closing the door behind me, I looked for Roderich among the seats, and telling him it was his turn to be 'brutally interrogated', as I tactfully put it.

He gave me a fleeting half-smile before donning his 'mask' and looking nothing but haughty, closing the door smoothly as if he wasn't just about to be questioned for being in a fight. I (almost) admired his calmness at times, though occasionally it would seem as if no blood flowed through those cool veins, that lymph nearly obstructed his arteries. Perhaps those were aspects of his 'mask', of his 'good breeding', but I didn't like them. I wanted to tear them both to bits and see what emotions were hiding beneath, strange and raw from never seeing the light of day. I had seen rare glimpses of them, yet never fully, but what magnificent beasts they seemed.

Then again, these were at the root of my problem, the very problem Miss Héderváry had tried to address. I kept my walls up as long as I could, yet she found a crevice and managed to peer inside. She now understood my past with him, but I had the feeling she didn't know the underlying reasons for it all.

I told her of our childhood games of 'Soldiers', our turbulent adolescence, and our broken friendship. I deliberately kept some details hidden, unreliable narrator that I am, but I left enough for plausibility's sake. She seemed to believe me when I spoke to her of the unmoving hatred caused by our arguments, but I 'forgot' the reasons for the arguments themselves.

But what if Roderich unknowingly told her? No. He wouldn't. He wasn't one to speak of emotions, and was truly as cold as I was, save for the polite layer of charm at the surface. Though perhaps this 'deception' served him better, after all, it was his remarkable (though subtle) charisma and cowardliness that slowly choked our friendship, and as far as I could tell, the pain was one-sided.

Because though people may smile when they want something, so do hungry sharks.

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**Was this so awful it made you wash your eyes with concentrated sulphuric acid? I sure as heck hope not, but I don't know, so please inform me if that is the case (or if it's not, if you're nice and want to give me hope). Thanks:)**


	8. Chapter 8- Here Comes the Anxiety

**Woah, is it just me, or have I not updated in AGES? Personally, I'm inclined to agree with the latter. I'm sorry if I've annoyed long-term readers (that is, if I still have any left) with the long gap between updates, but it had to be. I've had test after test in school lately, and coupled with my recent bout of writers block= long time; no post.**

**Please, if you follow this story, or even if you don't and hate it with all your heart, leave a review, for the benefit of my continued (supposed) sanity.**

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And so it was that I was back there again, listening to Miss Héderváry's 'verdict'. At first, she had briefly considered moving one of us, but it was too much effort for one small incident, especially so near the start of term. However, she did warn that if it were to happen again, not only would our parents be notified, but suspension would be considered, particularly in my case.

'Basch,' she said. 'physically harming others is not okay, no matter how much you think they deserve it.' So in the end, we 'got off easy' with three lunchtime detentions in a row and were sent on our way to Music.

As it turned out, the Headmaster taught this class, and joyfully welcomed us in. "Good morning, Roderich. Basch, I presume? Toris and Feliks told me where you both were." As the work was to be done in pairs, we were automatically grouped by the oblivious teacher, and Mr Vargas was sure that we would catch us up with the rest of the class; and given that neither of us dawdled and only talked to discuss an answer, we soon were.

So in this way, Music could be said to have passed 'in the blink of an eye'. Unfortunately, I didn't have long before I was cornered by a curious Feliks, barely restrained by a worried-looking Toris.

"So, like, tell me what happened! Are you in trouble? Did she, like, yell at you? I bet she did, cos, like, according to Gil, and he's, like, _always_ in trouble with her, she-"

"No, no, no, and stop giving me an earache."

"So then what did happen?" Toris asked, more politely.

"She asked for my viewpoint privately, then Roderich's, and gave us her conclusion. Nothing more."

"So you're not in trouble?"

"I do have to attend several lunchtime detentions, but besides that, I 'got off easy'."

"Ah. Well at least Gilbert wasn't right."

"About what?"

Toris cleared his throat nervously. "He said you'd both been suspended."

I clenched my fist and cursed the rumour-spreading idiot. Why that… "Stupid pig."

"Yeah, he, like, is." Feliks said.

"I must say, I agree." Toris said, though rather more nervously and looking around, as if to make sure Gilbert wasn't following him.

"And he's always been that way." Feliks said.

I nodded. "How long have you known him?"

"Since nursery." Toris sighed, rubbing his head lightly.

"Yeah. And he, like, used to chuck pebbles at Toris."

"So I take it he was just as well-mannered as a child?"

"Worse." Said Feliks, tossing his hair.

"That little shit was worse?"

"Oh, yes. He's comparatively calm and well-mannered now." Toris added.

"Joy."

"Joy indeed."

* * *

The next few lessons practically blurred into one another, as did the next few days. I lived in a strange robotic trance, barely remembering to eat, breathe and sleep, and day by day growing closer to the dreaded dinner with the Edelsteins; because my sensible technique of completely ignoring Roderich at all costs, though it worked very well at school (other than detention), wouldn't do _quite_ as well under the all-seeing, all-knowing gaze of Mrs Maria Theresia Walburga Amalia Christina Edelstein (and her husband Franz, but he was as courageous and fearsome as the lion from the Wizard of Oz). In that respect, she was very similar to Miss Héderváry. They were both shrewd, determined women who you didn't want to mess with, though otherwise perfectly nice and friendly.

It was these thoughts of the dreaded day that filled my head at every waking moment, that made me want to die by self-inflicted blunt trauma. And it was from horrible dreams of dinner-party scenarios from which I awoke on that ironically sunny Friday morning, by which point that old metal bucket in the corner was looking incredibly appealing.

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***wipes sweat from brow* Phew! Coming up next... THE PARTY! (Not the Ingsoc, 1984 sort.)**

**Review, monkeys, review!**


	9. Chapter 9- Dorfschwalben aus Österreich

**Is it April Fools' day again, or has this story actually updated? Many thanks to all you amazing reviewers (slight hint to non reviewers, there, of which there are hordes) and let's keep our fingers crossed as to whether or not this story will manage to update within a week or two xD**

**ON TO THE PARTY, COMRADES! (Focus, Awesomesauce, FOCUS!)**

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It seemed like April Fools' Day came early that morning, as the sweetness and light that radiated from everything mocked me as a beautiful view would mock a man bound for the gallows. And so like a gallows-bound man, I concentrated not on the beauty of the day, but on my impending execution… metaphorically speaking, _of course_.

So it didn't matter how many times my little sister tugged at my hand and asked me what was wrong, nor did the fact my own mother asked me why I looked grumpier than usual. I replied to both with a scowl, but mentally, I wasn't listening, wasn't there. Mentally, I was playing out my nightmares.

* * *

Within minutes I was at the school, half-acknowledging Lili's worried wave as I walked up to greet my companions. Or rather, companion, as Toris was comforting a bawling child in the corner. According to Feliks, 'that bully' Ivan had made a science of fear, mainly testing it on Toris, the sobbing boy, and occasionally my own maths teacher. Honestly, the loonies at this school.

"Sorry." Toris said as he walked up to us, wiping the teardrops off his shirt and frowning slightly.

"It's, like, totally alright. Right Basch?"

"Um, yeah."

"Basch?"

"Yes."

"You ok?"

"Of course. I- why wouldn't I be?" I shouted.

"Nothing, it's just that, li-"

Saved by the goddamn bell.

* * *

"Good morning, Basch." Said the infuriating idiot by the name of Roderich Edelstein as he sat down. It was form time that morning, that day of the week blissfully without assembly when everyone simply chatted and read in the form room. At least, most people did. I had simply stared at my desk for the past ten minutes, when Roderich _had_ to arrive (late) and ruin my boredom.

I gave him the quickest look, the smallest nod, and went back to what I was doing. "Are you not going to even reply?" He asked quietly, slightly smugly. I replied by means of silence, glaring intensely at the desk as if it was him. "Basch, you realise this won't be acceptable in front of my mother, don't you? You do realise she's convinced we're still friends? Despite-" He stopped there, sighing.

I realised why, as the previous sentence hung in the air, provoking unwanted memories. "Despite?" I half-parroted.

"Despite your best efforts, Zwingli."

"And you did nothing?"

His mouth caught open for a moment, but he quickly pursed it. "I admit I've done things I regret, Basch, but I'm not as culpable as you think. Nothing you wouldn't have done in my situation."

"Which was?"

"Compromising."

* * *

I hadn't much appetite for morning lessons, or for lunch for that matter. It was clear that Toris and Feliks knew something was wrong, but after a few questions they probed no further, and Feliks soon began chattering excitedly to Toris about a 'gorgeous micro-skirt' he saw in London, his new favourite topic, it seemed.

And though Feliks' careless tossing away of money disgusted me, I admired his naïveté at times, and how perfectly it contrasted with Toris' nervous gravity. They were the perfect friends despite, or because of, their personal flaws. And though I was their friend of sorts, there was an invisible barrier that I had no need to kick down. I had no 'fit', no 'perfect friend', and that was fine, because I wanted none. No, really.

* * *

As I picked up Lili at the end of the afternoon, she clung to my hand as if for balance. "Bruder!" She cried. "Oh, you don't look very well." And in her little way, fussed quietly about. I often wondered why the child-saint was born into the same family as the psychopath, at times almost suspecting she was adopted, but merely accepted it now. I was too tired to puzzle, but not visibly tired enough to stay home that night. How fucking unfortunate.

My father was home at last for the first time in weeks, and he greeted me with a curt smile and a stiff hug. He was about as affectionate as I was and shared my passion for deadly weapons, but was a brilliant businessman, as I hoped to be.

He would be my best ally in the den of thieves I was about to enter. True, mum would support me, but she was teasing and had been good friends with Mrs Edelstein.

As soon as my parents had a quick drink, mum rushed upstairs to pick some clothes- a pretty cream frock for Lili, and a simple suit for myself, making a point to give me a purple tie. "Wha- mum!"

She smirked. "Problem? Fashionably speaking, it contrasts well with your hair and eyes."

"Yes. But, p-"

"Is a perfectly manly colour. Now, wear it, or you're paying me £15 and grounded for a week."

That shut me up quickly, but didn't stop me from putting my favourite Swiss Army Knife in my pocket.

* * *

Soon, even mum was ready, and we walked the relatively short distance to Roderich's house brandishing a torch each, for even though the sun was just setting, it would be far darker in the early hours of next morning.

Once we reached the road and checked the house name twice, mum pressed the buzzer. "Is that you, Ulrike?" Asked a woman's voice on the other end.

"Yes." Mother said. Immediately, the wrought-iron gates began to open, and we went down the tree-lined walk to the house. Father knocked on the door, but it swung open before he was even finished. "Ulli! Andreas! Basch! Lili! Come in; come in, before you catch cold!" Cried Mrs Edelstein, and we were swept inside.

Beside her were Mr Edelstein and Roderich, and we were soon put to the awkward task of saying hello to everyone. Greeting Mrs Edelstein was easy: you simply braced yourself for the coming onslaught and tried to wheeze out a 'good evening'.

First, however, she gave my mother a stern look. "Ulrike Zwingli! When was the last time you came for dinner?" Breaking into a manic grin at the end.

"Um, er-" What she attempted to say next didn't matter, because she was given the infamous bone-crushing hug Maria was reputed to give since their Vienna University days. She gave everyone else a similar treatment, before going back to the kitchen to finish cooking, and handing out the hors d'oeuvres to the adults, Lili sticking closely to mother.

"You two should go play upstairs before main course is finished." Mrs Edelstein said, seemingly forgetting we weren't seven year olds.

"But-" Roderich tried to argue.

"No, Mausi, I'll be another 30 minutes."

He blushed lightly at the nickname before walking up the stairs in defeat, leaving me to follow behind in embarrassment. Halfway down the corridor he turned suddenly, almost crashing into me.

"I'm sorry about my mother," He said, cheeks still faintly pink. "Though I _did_ give you ample warning."

"Yes. I- guess… you did." I said, eyes on the small chandelier above his head, but thoughts of whipping out my knife while I had the opportunity. His eyes lingered on my tie, and I could feel myself blush. "No, it- Why would I- It was my mother. No, no, really! She-"

"Hush. It's fine. It actually complements your colouring remarkably." I blushed further at this, and suddenly found the flooring beyond fascinating. He continued walking until we got to the door at the end of the corridor, when he opened it and offered me a seat. Seeing how it was furnished, it was obviously his room, and I took the proffered chair.

He closed the door, sat down opposite me and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Basch. What I'm about to tell you bothers me as well, but unless you want matters to worsen, it's the only option."

"Which is?"

"That you agree to act as my friend and get along with me for the rest of the evening."

"What?!" To say I was shocked (and quite angry) was an understatement.

"It's either that, or my mother will ask you awkward questions all through dinner."

"I'll take it."

"Which?"

"Your option."

"Excellent." He said, adjusting his glasses. "Though, I have one condition."

"And?"

"That the second part becomes permanent."

"That I agree to get along with you?"

"Yes. Do you accept?" Well, did I? Could I stop hating and feeling whatever-it-was for him? Could I stop blushing and mentally killing him every time he was even mentioned? Well, could I at the very least… pretend?

"Yes, I accept."

He held out his hand, yet as his fingertips brushed mine, I felt a jolt and immediately pulled back. "Any problems?" He asked, face politely calm, but his lips were slightly upturned, and his eyes looked mocking. "None." I said gruffly, grasping his hand like a politician would an opponent's and shaking it- hard. "Good." He said, mirroring the action. For several moments we just sat staring, as if challenging the other to let go, but suddenly realising what it might have looked like, I coughed, dropped my grip and angled the chair towards the door.

There were still more than twenty minutes until dinner.

* * *

At last, Mrs Edelstein called for us, and I walked into the dining room with Roderich to the loud strains of a Strauss waltz. "It's Dorfschwalben aus Österreich playing." She remarked, as she filled the glasses with water.

When everyone else had arrived, we sat down to a fine meal of soup, salad, semmel-bread dumplings and roast pork. Mrs Edelstein began a long monologue on the pointlessness of buying ready-stale bread for dumplings 'when you can just use your own', in which the other adults occasionally slipped comments into.

Unfortunately, this didn't stop her from glancing slyly at me and Roderich, who _happened_ to be opposite me. But we kept up the friendly charade well enough to avoid the confrontation, and I found I was pretending less and less as the evening went on, almost finding his company… amusing. Oh shit. Wait! I said almost, so don't be getting any ideas about me and him, you hear?

Suffice to say that by the dessert course, I had achieved regular eye-contact and the occasional smile, even managing to get Roderich to laugh (apparently, my scowl is incredibly amusing. **Idiot.**) So when our plates were cleared away, the logical thing to do was to wait in his room until the adults were done drinking and discussing ski-destinations (which the conversation had somehow got to from ready-stale bread).

Lili had been quietly reading a book this entire time, and after ensuring me she was fine with the adults, delved back into Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, her favourite book, it seemed, as of today.

So Roderich and I got up to leave, and I soon found myself on a beanbag chair in the corner of his room, attempting to discuss the merits of a Prussian military composer I'd never even heard about, eventually trying to parody the Preußens Gloria and perform it as a duo in the Inter-House Music Competition, all these being medically-proven side effects of tiredness and far too much Kaiserschmarrn.

The strange thing is, though, I didn't remember leaving that night, just feeling far too tired and far too full and then- that can't be right.

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**Review, piranhas, review! (Is that better, InSaNeAngelsgottanAK47, hm?) Anyway, please do, otherwise I may have to call Chuck Norris to help and end up exploding the world's remaining rare logic resources.**


	10. Chapter 10- Beanbags&Breakfast&Bickering

**Hey guys, bet you didn't think I'd get an update out this early! Truth be told, neither did I, until I realised what today was the anniversary of. Anyone who guesses correctly gets a free (virtual) cookie. Shoutout to chahana-miyuki for being an epic reviewer. Sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed, but I didn't want to miss April 10th. Review, people, review!**

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When the light hit my eyelids and turned the darkness orange, I awoke, no matter how much I hated to. "Stupid sun, go away." I grumbled. So I rolled over, and thought to myself how strange the texture of the bed was. It was too soft, and stuffed with… foam pellets? The blanket didn't seem my own, either, though it smelled familiar to my sleepy brain. I shifted again. Was I going crazy, or-

_Thunk_

I hit the hard floor with one more sideways shift. No, this wasn't my bed. But if I wasn't home, where was I? As my eyes adjusted to the light of the sun (and what a sadistic sun it was) my stomach knotted up. This couldn't be right. No, I was dreaming. There was no way I could still be… in _his_ room. On _his_ beanbag chair, with a lacy blanket his grandmother had knitted.

So it was official: God hated me and was telling me to go punch myself to death. What proof did I have, some sod might ask? My entire life since HetaHigh, that's what. But instead of curling up in a ball and sobbing like a mini-Roderich, I had a plan.

I would straighten myself out, and while everyone was asleep, run back home. Years of training meant I prided myself on my stealth, and there was no doubt whatsoever that I would succeed. So after a brief stretch, I walked to the doorway, opened the door and went into the en-suite with the aim of tidying myself up before sneaking out.

Unfortunately, my suit was heavily creased, but at least I could un-muss my hair, clean my face and use some mouthwash, which I hoped was enough to stop passer-by's getting too suspicious. After all, what if some idiot from school thought I had gone out drinking- or perhaps got… _further_ than drinking? No, that wouldn't be at all dignified.

So after checking I left nothing in Roderich's room, I walked quietly to the door again, and turned the handle- when I heard a quiet yawn and rustle. "Oh, good morning, Basch."

I had been caught in the act by the one person I could always count on to sleep late. The irony. 'You know, Lord,' I thought. 'if you wanted me dead, wouldn't lightning be more convenient?' That was my reasoning, anyhow, but back to the matter at hand.

"Er, good morning Roderich." I whispered hoarsely, inwardly cursing him, God and the Universe.

"I hope you don't mind the liberty I took in not waking you up, but your mother strongly insisted." He said, looking slightly flustered, knotting his dressing gown.

"And yours didn't?"

He smirked at this. "I thought that was a given."

"Just ascertaining."

"Then you must still be tired. I trust you slept soundly?"

"I must have if I woke just before you." This earned me a chuckle.

"Do so more often."

"Why?"

"It reduces your grumpiness to a manageable level."

"Do you know what would bring your prissiness to a manageable level?"

"No."

"Batrachotoxin."

"Oh, how you wound me, Sebastian."

It seemed he had a death wish. "What?"

"Nothing, Sebastian." He said innocently, polishing his glasses.

"Well I hope you know the lethal dose of my favourite alkaloid is almost nothing- two salt-grains' worth."

"Then I hope you like your eggs well-salted."

"Then I- fuck off."

"I see you're keeping the agreement well."

"Only as well as you."

"Then we should stop."

I raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What?"

"We should stop constantly arguing, Basch. It does neither of us any good."

"But we tried this yesterday."

"Then we may need something stronger."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting something more binding. An oath? A written contract, perhaps?"

"Well, as long as I don't need to pay a lawyer, I'm open to anything."

"Then we had better discuss matters after breakfast. Come along."

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Both of his parents met me again at breakfast, and a rather grumpy Mrs Edelstein asked us to help with the apple pancakes, during the making of which I couldn't help shaking my head at all the 'premium' ingredients being used. I half-expected her to break down and confess she was a fan of the 'Posh Lady' from the Catherine Tate Show. After all, what else could explain the unholy amount of gooseberry and cinnamon yoghurt in the fridge?

When the pancakes were finished and the table was set, we at last sat down to breakfast. However, this didn't seem to improve her mood. "What is the matter, mama?" Roderich asked.

"Mollwitz." Was the bitter reply.

"Mollwitz?"

"Yes, Roderich, today marks the anniversary of the battle at Mollwitz."

"What battle at Mollwitz?"

"The one Friedrich II _won_." She spat. "Not without making _numerous_ military blunders, I might add. That idiot practically abandoned his own troops!"

"And still won?"

"Yes, yes, but with heavy casualties." She said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Don't mind her," Franz said quietly to me. "she's prone to thinking she's her namesake at times."

"Her namesake being Maria Theresia of Austria?"

"The very one. I'm convinced she thinks I'm Franz Stephan of Lothringen, at times!"

"I heard that!" She hissed. Franz gulped and was silent. "Now," she said, gesturing to me and Roderich. "you boys can play a while, but Mrs Zwingli will come at around noon. Is that understood?"

We both nodded, and went back upstairs to avoid the already brewing argument that would inevitably resume. That was when I realised how normal my parents were in comparison.

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**If anyone guessed ****anything**** to do with the Silesian Wars/ War of the Austrian Succession, they can have a free virtual cookie, plus an invisible well done sticker, both courtesy of me. ...yeah, generous...**

**As for batrachotoxin, that's the poison that makes poison dart frogs so... what do you think? Child-safe?**

**Coming up next chapter: STUFF ACTUALLY RELEVANT TO THE PLOT**.


	11. Chapter 11- Silence

**So, so sorry for the wait.. but with exams to study for and a broken computer to deal with, it was hard. But I'm terribly sorry, and I will make it up to you all... somehow... if you're still there. My readers mean the world to me3**

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So we sat again a while, forgetting to discuss what we had earlier. Boring though it may seem to anyone else, this was the only way to peacefully coexist. After all, to me it seemed pointless bringing up old arguments, and I felt Roderich agreed.

So there was silence. It was a companionable silence, but a silence in every sense of the word save for the slight noise of wind at the window and the soft intake of breath in the room. We weren't meant for the sort of friends that laughed and horsed around; you could say that we weren't meant for friends at all.

But the silence? I lived for silence. The peaceful, heavy sort of silence at the end of a long day; the kind of silence your crazy neighbour soon shattered, but worth it all the same.

And Roderich? Well, though he seemed it, he was far from silent.

In a moment of stillness, his eyes would often glaze over, and his fingers would sometimes twitch. And I knew from experience that at that moment, I had lost him to his music. _His_ music, because it never left him, because it was never quiet. And so Roderich was never truly silent, but silence suited him all the same.

After all, what more is silence than a blank canvas, an empty wall to paint on? To an artist, perhaps it is more than that. Perhaps it is a wonder, a kind of art in itself? But what am I thinking? Why am I writing such nonsense when I'd sooner pick up a gun than a guitar? Music was never my gift, after all.

So perhaps that was why. Perhaps that was why we weren't friends. It was because I couldn't understand him, relate to him. Yes, I could pick him up when he fell, but if he fell because he was looking at the stars?

I didn't understand their appeal. After all, they were just old, dead light, galaxies away. You may gaze upon them from a distance, but step closer, and they vanish.

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**This doesn't deserve a review, but if you'd like...**


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